Somatic Somnambulism
by AurielAndProud
Summary: First, they were children. Content among their kin, learning and growing. Then they were passengers. Voyagers who ventured beyond the limits of Orokin knowledge. Then they were lost; floating adrift through a blasted void, minds warped, bodies burnt. Now, they are Tenno. Please note, this is a mature story; it will feature mature themes and potentially graphic violence.
1. I: Preview

What does it mean to walk without waking, to act without knowing? Does it mean the soma, the body, acts without consulting the psyche? Is it when the psyche loses control of the body it inhabits? Do the two separate, each treading their own paths towards different goals and with different means? Why does my mind wander, drifting endlessly through a body not my own? Am I asleep? Am I... dead? Or am I just more alive than I have ever been before?

Amidst this waking dream; this stolen dream, I see flickering shards of a person. I see the half-hearted imitation of a being who has many forms, many bodies. They walk many paths, live many colourful lives, suffer many bleak deaths. They have suffered much and gained little, seeking refuge in knowledge and truth, finding none. Am I this person, this... thing?

Something else returns to me, burning its way through my mind. A single word. Transference. Why does this word mean so much to me?

Why do I not remember... anything?


	2. II: Psyche

I stand in front of a vast, glassy ocean, blue-grey water stretching endlessly toward each horizon. The sky is a white and flat, featureless. Almost as if it wasn't there at all. It didn't make sense for there to be light, but it was definitely there. Barely enough to see, yet somehow... blinding. A kind of half-light that ate at the corners of my vision, corroding my sight and my soul alike. A shiver ran down my spine and I wrapped my arms around me, trying to escape the biting cold burning my skin. I grit my teeth and took a deep breath, trying to cry out and break the overpowering silence. No sound left my lips.

 _What's the matter, eh kiddo? Something wrong?_

Everything was wrong. The fact that I couldn't pick any one thing in particular that was wrong worried me more than anything else. Nothing made any sense, nothing followed any pattern or served any purpose.

 _Come on, you can tell me. What is it?_

In a way, this... place, if it could be called that, brought out the worst in me. It tried my patience, tested my restraint, made me feel trapped in a way no other experience could. But it also brought out the best in me. My will, my resolve, my curiosity. That was likely all that kept me sane whenever I found myself back here. My fear couldn't overpower my curiosity. It couldn't stop me from relentlessly seeking to understand.

 _Hey, kiddo. Don't let something that isn't you own you._

The water below me rippled and I half-smiled, looking down and watching the cracks flicker across its surface. The outer layers of my mind wrestled with each other, tossing and turning over possible reasons and logics. Trying to put method to the madness. I knew I'd never find one. The only pattern here was the absence of. To try and pursue any other theory? Madness. As much as it pained me, for now I had to settle for the theory that there was no reason, no reasoning, no cause or effect.

 _Hey, kiddo._

Things just were.


	3. III: Dwam

I couldn't tell if my eyes were open. There was no light, only a close, stifling darkness. I could, however, assume that I was no longer dreaming, given that my blood no longer felt like water. I could also move my fingers without my flesh feeling like stone, which was a bonus. It made me feel a little more... alive.

That being said, I still couldn't move that far. Maybe a few centimetres in each direction. It was enough that I didn't feel trapped, but it was by no means comfortable. Aches permeated my limbs and chest and a dull throbbing in my temples reminded me every so often that I felt like throwing up.

I heard myself sigh and lay back, trying to stretch.

"Least I'm alive." The voice that I heard in the darkness didn't sound like my own. It was small, quiet. Scared. Uncertain and afraid, trapped in a metal coffin to dream away the claustraphobic night.

I shuddered gently, balling my fists and forcing the tension out of my head. I needed a quiet space to think, free of the storms that frequented my mind. If I was lucky, I could get a few minutes of peace. Enough to run over my options, enough to try something new. Maybe I could find a way out of this tin can yet.

My conscious crept around the sharp edges that cornered me, probing for any sign of weakness, any sign of an exit. There had to be something. Whatever had fallen on my prison had broken the only way out, sealed it shut. If it was heavy enough to do that, it had to have broken something else.

I searched a second time. Still nothing, only damaged metal and frayed wiring. A few scrapped mechanisms had pierced the casing, leaving bits of machinery jutting awkwardly into the gap between my feet. Sadly, there weren't any gaps that I could breathe through, and there certainly weren't any I could force my mind through. All I needed was one crack, however tiny.

However unlikely.

In my dreams, I could do whatever I wanted. I could fly, for a short while. I could run to my heart's content. I could fight till I wore my very bones out. If I knew where here was, I'm sure I could see outside this malfunctioning deathtrap. Maybe even open it. But, honestly, I have no clue. All I can summise is that I'm trapped in a dark place that gets darker each time I dream.

The dreams aren't always unpleasant, though. I can refuse death, defy the other half of living. I can live out a life as someone, something else. Something better than the half-baked shell of a child that I remember seeing in mirrors. That I keep seeing when I close my eyes. Occasionally, I lose track of which form is mine and which I borrow. Those are the good dreams.

There are other people in my dreams too. A curious, more than slightly defective Cephalon. Ordis. He claims to have known me, though I knew nothing of him till I was rather abruptly introduced to him by one of the others. She calls herself Lotus, though I know that isn't her real name. It's more of a title, an attempt at hiding something that she doesn't like to remember. What, I couldn't tell you.

Then there are the others. The ones I'm not so fond of. Vay Hek, Nef Anyo, Alad V. I would love to say that I didn't care a whit about them or their actions, but that would be a lie. While confusing, idiotic and somewhat insane, they intrigue me. Or, more to the point, the circumstances that allowed such absurd beings to exist intrigues me.

Every time I dream, the dreams change a little. Wars start, end, and start again. Mistrust, absurdist greed and incomprehensible obsession fuel conflict, shatter the greatest worlds and the smallest beings alike. There are some things that do not change, however. My actions do not, the 'history' of prior dreams does not, and the problems I am presented with most certainly do not.

What they call me also seems to be a constant.

 _Tenno._

What does that phrase, that label even mean? Is it a title? I suspect it may be an abbreviation of Ten Zero, in reference to the Zariman Ten Zero that I've read about. I know little more than the name and a few scraps of mythos that surround it, but it feels... familiar. As if I could speak a language that I couldn't understand.

Honestly, if I could understand anything, that would be a good start.


	4. IV: Daydream

I'm dreaming again; sitting atop a Corpus tower on Jupiter watching the sun rise. It creeps above the gaseous horizon inch by inch, luminous fingers stretching to the sky, searching for a hold. Faint outlines of other towers dot the clouds like mirages, appearing and disappearing as the landscape shifted and changed. It was beautiful, if alien.

A pleasant distraction from the whirlwind of light and magic trying to force its way out of my skull.

I close my eyes and lean back, letting my mind wander. I creep through my surroundings, examining pieces of carefully shaped metal and well-hidden mechanics. Their designs confuse me but as I spend more time investigating the connections they begin to make sense, much as a spider's web makes no sense till you understand its purpose. I trigger security mechanisms, open and close doors and watch as the box-headed inhabitants chatter in confusion.

A surge of power and strange noise catches my attention and I look down to see a large machine waking up. I think it's called the Jackal, though I've no idea why. It reminds me of a crab or some sort of insect more than anything else. Still, I can't help but admire the sleek designs that the Corpus come up with. Even the Zanuka Hunter looks appealing till it tries to maul you.

Despite their ingenuity and efficiency, the Corpus scare me. There's a certain something about their lives that scares me. Or, more to the point, their lack of life. Their culture is dedicated to money and material pursuits, otherwise brilliant minds bent and shackled under the weight of expectation and greed.

A lot like the Orokin, if you cared to make the comparison.

No matter how far you traveled you couldn't escape the stench of gilded corruption that seemed to permeate the air. It seeped into the earth, clouded the skies and made my stomach roil. Their... our influence was everywhere and anywhere. From what I've learnt, it seems that it even in death it stretches far beyond the Origin system.

That said, it isn't without its opposition. What was once their flesh rebels against it, machines made for peace turning to war in the wake of realization. Despite the value of the remaining artifacts, it was _very_ debatable if the rewards were worth the risks they presented. Factions vied for control of them, short-lived alliances growing and dying as their masters sought new ways to exert power and authority.

Many were blind to the rippling effects their actions or lack thereof had, and those who were seemed not to care. There were a few exceptions of course - many of the smaller groups, the Syndicates, seemed dedicated to bettering the reality around them. I admired their efforts, though the way they venerated me when I helped them made me suspicious. Everyone wants something from everyone else; some just don't like to admit it.

It's a shame they weren't better teachers too. I could stand to learn a few things if anyone was willing to teach. Teshin Dax seemed open to the idea of teaching but I don't know if I want to learn what he has to teach. I'm sick to my core of this conflict and the way it spoils anything it sinks its claws into. I don't want to give in to it, to give in to the fear and mistrust. I want to be better than that.

I want to have faith.

Some of the box-headed workers are talking in hushed tones. I can only make out parts of what they're saying but I can get the gist of it. There's something big and bad that some Grineer asshat woke up on Uranus. Truth be told I'm sick of hearing about the loud, obnoxious Grineer authority, but I can't help my curiosity. I strain my hearing, trying to make out the rapid-fire syllables of the Corpus dialect.

Most of the technical jargon is lost on me but a few words stick in my head, sentient being one of them. Are they trying to say that they found some huge creature under the surface? Something... trapped, I think? That could be very interesting. My gut tells me that it's a bad idea but I can't resist the idea that there might be something new to learn - something to sate my curiosity, if only for a moment.

Oh, to the Void with it. I want to go and investigate. I'll probably regret it later, but I'll regret not going more.

 _\- Writer's Note -_  
 _Apologies on the lack of updates for god knows how long, there's been a lot going on in my life. Study has kept me busy, not to mention my health turning to sh!t, so now that both of those are mostly out of the way hopefully I'll be able to update this more often. I'd like to update it once a week on Mondays (NZT) but I don't know if I'll be able to stick to that. Hopefully I will._


	5. V: Animation

I awake from my dream in a cold sweat, wild eyes searching for any way out of the stifling darkness that surrounded me. I felt cornered, bound by something I couldn't even understand. Like there was some creature stalking me. I could see it out of the corner of my eye when I let my imagination get the better of me. My instincts would take over and the air would start to feel like oil, then I'd lash out and try to escape my prison before exhaustion and common sense stopped me.

My heart gradually slowed and I slowed my breathing to a glacial pace, forcing myself to stay in the present and curbing my imagination. I had to deal with the here and now before I could dream again. My body relaxed and my emotions stilled as my mind focused, assessing my priorities.

What did I know? I knew that I was trapped in a makeshift cage that nullified any power that was more than physical. I knew that if I could open even the tiniest crack, I could tear it apart and escape. I knew that I wasn't getting hungry, thirsty, tired or anything else 'human'. I knew that I could dream from here, and that I could see fragmented shadows of the world I recognised from before my long sleep.

What I didn't know, however, was whether I was just seeing those things because I wanted to be or because they actually were.

There was evidence to support both theories. Several people talked about the 'old war' and the 'old world', supposedly talking about the fall of the Orokin empire and subsequent chaos. That fit with my memory. I remembered the way the Orokin treated us, the hate they showed for us and the disdain. I remember how we learnt that the only way to survive in their perfect world was to be as they were; hateful, careful and mindful. I remember seeking to curb my temper and learn self restraint, to try and 'readjust' to the society I had once been a part of but no longer remembered.

What I didn't remember is the day that everything turned on its head. While we had long been trained to fight, we fought wars for the Orokin, not against them. We fought both machine and flesh for them. We would be precise as a patient kavat one day, then furious as a rabid kubrow the next. But, if rumours were to be believed, on the day we were to be elevated for our service, we betrayed our would-be masters. We cut them into ribbons of red and grey, what was once gilded perfection now mired in bloody carnage. I could believe that it happened, as I know I certainly wasn't alone in my hatred of our 'betters'. I just don't understand why, or if, it happened.

One way or another, if my dreams told the truth, then the Orokin were no more, leaving behind only a chaotic vacuum of power and a few precious artifacts. That was equal parts amusing and terrifying. On the one hand, it meant that their wretched perfection and hatred no longer tainted whatever they touched. On the other, it would confirm that the endless war my dreams spoke of was true. What were once great tools were blunted by cruel intent, people who would've been great craftsmen and craftswomen were shackled by necessity.

It all seemed so... bleak. So lifeless.

In a way, it wasn't much different from the Void that I felt so trapped in; it looked beautiful from a distance, but look an inch to close and you'd see the corruption and chaos writhing below the surface. For every gloried artist, ever treasured mother, there was an overwhelming army to push them into the ground and too few warriors to hold them back. Those who had the strength to be better were a rare commodity. I liked to think I could count myself as one of them, but I knew in my gut that I tread a thin line between soldier and murderer. I was lucky that the 'good' people were so much more interesting than the ones the fought against.

Something in the back of my mind stirred, something loud and hard to ignore. Fear or frustration probably. I tried to ignore it, let it dissipate like mist over a horizon, but it only ate at me more. Thoughts seeped into my conscious and I shook a little. You're trapped, you're small, you're caged like the brute you are. You can't get out.

You can't move.

Maybe they were right. Maybe not. Regardless, I couldn't stand this metal coffin any more. I grit my teeth and smiled, preparing to prove them wrong.


	6. VI: Action

_Hey, kiddo, wake up._

My eyes slowly peeled open and I looked up at the flat, endless sky above me. I heard myself groan and rolled over onto my side, closing my eyes in a futile attempt to block out the half-light.

 _I'm serious, you need to wake up. There's something coming to get you._

I opened one eye just enough to look around, trying to locate the source of the disembodied voice. It took me the best part of ten seconds to work out that I'd never find it unless I could roll my eyes back into my skull. Pushing myself up with a sigh, I propped myself up on one arm and shielded my eyes with the other. There weren't many things to look at, really - just a whole lot of grey-scale emptiness. Still, being able to rely on your senses was important, even when they couldn't make sense of what was around you.

 _Come on, you need to go. There's a monster coming._

"Yeah? You'd know, wouldn't you?" I felt laughter rumbling in my throat as I waited for a response. Silence was often very good at saying what words couldn't. Or what people wouldn't.

 _The thing that's coming is worse than me, kiddo. A lot worse._

"Do tell." I pushed myself up and rolled my shoulders, stiff muscles relaxing and joints popping.

 _It's got reasons to want you dead. Personal reasons. You know how much worse emotion can make already hard situations._

"I'll be fine." Quiet laughter echoed around me and reverberated through my skull as I settled into a relaxed stance and started walking.

 _Of course you will be. You always are, huh kiddo?_

"No, not always." I yawned and shrugged my shoulders before striding into the water at my feet.

"Just when it counts."


	7. VII: Push

My dreams just keep getting stranger and stranger. The Grineer were jittery even before I set off the alarms and began cleaving my way through them, looking over their shoulders and talking quietly among themselves. It seems even tubemen aren't immune to the fear of the unknown.

I'm certainly not.

I know very little of what's going on as Natah refuses to speak in any certain terms about her 'father' Hunhow. She's been very quiet every since her hand was forced, saying only what she has to and refusing to answer non-essential questions. Is she just ashamed to face me? Or is there another reason? It's not like I've ever been particularly inclined to trust her, but it's easier to work with someone when it doesn't feel like they're about to disappear again every time you talk to them. I don't want to lose the most reliable source of information I've got.

"Tenno. What are you doing?" As if on cue her distorted voice crackles into life in the back of my head.

"Oh, hello. I'm sating my curiosity."

"By trying to provoke a sentient?"

"Of course! I don't see another way and this is fun." I smash a lancer into the wall beside me and duck behind a crate to reload.

"I don't think you need to-"

"No, I don't. But I want to." There's chatter and gunfire behind me. Left, center. Nothing that I can hear to the right. I pump my shotgun and fire a slug past the edge of the crate, giggling as I hear the subsequent explosion and splatter.

"Ah, that never gets old. Now, was there something that you wanted?"

"You aren't the only one who needs information. I need you to gather some data for me."

"Really? Anything interesting?" It was a long time before Natah spoke again, the tension mitigated only slightly by my macabre dance.

"It's information about Hunhow." I paused mid punch and blinked, dropping the butcher to the floor and standing up.

"I'm in. Where am I going?"

"A Grineer vault close to Tyl Regor's lab." A sly grin crept across my face.

"Yeah, I'm _definitely_ in."

"Good. I'm sending you the coordinates now. I'll let you know more when you arrive." She's gone as quickly as she arrived, leaving behind only an uncomfortable silence. I sigh and roll my shoulders, beginning the long jog back to my ship. I don't expect I'll be privy to much of the information I get her, but it might be enough to prove or disprove a few things. Maybe I'll even learn who she is and what she wants, what her goals and motivations are. It's a bit of a pipe dream really, but you never know - perhaps she'll crack under pressure and give away more information than she means to, or perhaps she'll just decide that she 'needs' to tell me something.

I mostly ignore the Grineer I sprint past, only stopping occasionally to duck out of the way of one of their meandering rockets. A few harsh words catch my ear though; something about another disturbance a few hundred metres behind me I think? One by one they fire their last volleys and back off, armoured feet clattering down metal corridors. I guess they aren't great multitaskers. I doubt they're actually retreating, and I can't think of another reason they'd leave me alone. I must've killed several hundred of their companions, and though they aren't terribly empathetic, Grineer make a point of getting even. It makes them easy to provoke and predict, though you had to remember that they'd always send a bigger force than they needed to.

Not that it's ever big enough to stop me...

I reach the small underwater cavern that Natah has marked and my ship emerges gracefully from the water, warframe entry clicking open. My hands and feet click into place and I feel the ship begin to turn around as the entry slides back around and into the ship. It's not long before I'm back in the bowels of the ship amidst the hum of the foundry and the thrum of the engines.

"Welcome back Operator. I trust your mission was successful?" Ordis chimes in as I step into the arsenal and my form changes around me.

"It was, but not in the way I expected. Natah has asked me to help find more information about Hunhow."

"I suppose that might be useful. Still, Ordis wonders why the Lotus kept any information from you in the first place." I shrug, walking up to the bridge and watching the water flickering over the front of the ship as it shot towards its destination.

"I think she just works on a need-to-know basis, honestly."

"True. Perhaps she's starting to feel _scared and alone-_ the same way you are now." I snicker and sit down, leaning on my hands.

"Oh if only. If only..."


	8. VIII: Reaction

I'm lying on my back, floating on an endless grey ocean below and endless grey sky. The water is... warm..? I think? My nerves tell me it's lukewarm but my mind tells me it's bitingly cold, as if it was poison eating away at my skin. I open my eyes and wave my hand in front of my gaze, watching idly as the pale fingers flick from one side to the next. I was 'me' again, the real me.

"I always seem to end up back here, don't I?"

 _You and me both kiddo._ I blink and ease my hand back onto the water's strangely jagged surface.

"You don't ever seem to leave though."

 _I don't think I do, but I don't think I want to either. The world out there is awfully colourful and loud._

"I guess, but if the world out there is loud then this place is just... deafening." The water shifted, ripples scattering across its surface in a pattern I couldn't quite make out. One passed right through me, my vision flickering as it passed over my nose.

 _I'm sorry?_

"I don't know about you, but the silence is so loud I swear it should make my ears bleed. Should being the operative word..."

 _That's a bit of an oxymoron isn't it?_ I snicked quietly, closing my eyes and relaxing.

"I guess so. You're not saying I'm wrong, though." The voice was quiet for a long time, as if thinking. Perhaps it was thinking how to respond, perhaps it was thinking about whether it wanted to agree with me or not. Maybe it just needed to keep its mind busy so it didn't lose itself in the endless nothing. Like me.

 _I'm not sure, kiddo._

"Yeah, I'm not either a lot of the time." I pushed myself up until I was leaning on my elbows, looking around myself until I couldn't stand the endless nothing and stared at my legs. It wasn't like I was bothered by not belonging here; nothing belonged here. I just felt like the longer I looked into the abyss the longer it looked into me. It reminded me of things I didn't want to remember, parts of myself that I didn't want to admit were real. It got under my skin in a way no-one and no thing could.

"I'd offer to talk about myself but I honestly can't remember much right now, so let's talk about you. I need something to keep my mind off of this place."

 _Are you sure you want to hear anything I have to say?_ I shrug and roll my neck, sitting up properly.

"I don't know. Let's say I'm morbidly curious." The water rippled repeatedly for a few seconds and I got the impression that the voice was laughing at me.

 _You're a strange one, kiddo._ I snicker quietly, my laughter echoing in the silence.

"And you seem to be an observant one. So, how'd you end up 'here', if it is a here?"

 _I don't think it really is a 'here', but I don't know what to call it. It's kind of like a fever dream or some sort of recurring_ nightmare.

"Very poetic, but what in the Void does that mean?"

 _Funny choice of words, that. I guess it's kind of like an 'other' place, a thing that only exists as a parallel to things that exist outside of it. It's real because we allow it to be, but we can't disallow it from being._

"Sooo it's a metaphor? Or a reflection?"

 _More like the second I think, though definitely a bit of both. Imagine it like a mirror that shows you a metaphor of yourself instead of your reflection._

"That just... makes my brain hurt. Ugh." I blink a couple of times and look around my legs and torso as I try to keep myself anchored in what reality I can maintain.

"So, if that's the case, why do I only see it as grey water and grey sky?"

 _Each and every one who sees this perceives it differently. I warps, changes and evolves as the person's perception of it and themselves does._ A shiver ran down my spine and then back up it as I shook myself, trying to get rid of what felt like electricity building up in my limbs before it started to pool in my head.

"Which means that as I remember more I'll start to see more, right?"

 _Something like that. Remember it's based on your perception of reality, not reality itself._

"I guess that makes some sort of sense, which is a start. Now, if I could just remember the ninety percent of my life that seems intent on hiding behind a misty wall..."

 _You and me both, kiddo._

 _\- Writer's Note -  
Apologies for the delayed update - things have been a bit hectic recently what with my great-grandmother suddenly getting quite sick and a few other bits and pieces. I'd like to get another update published this week in case I can't get one up next week, so expect that on Saturday NZT. Thanks for being patient!_


	9. Update

Hey, sorry for the lack of updates. I've been really sick and preoccupied with the final exam for my course. I'm kinda behind on study and other stuff for the moment, so the series will be on hiatus for a few weeks while I catch up on everything.


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